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BPOV

Edward grabs my hand and we make our way quickly, but quietly down the staircase.

When we reach the bottom step, my heart is pounding so hard that my head feels dizzy and I momentarily lose my balance. Edward's arm holds me steady, as he brings the lantern up to my face. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I say quietly, relishing in the feel of his hand on my back. He quickly steals a kiss and gives me a reassuring nod before we head down the long hall leading to the room my mother and father are staying in.

Standing in front of their door, I hesitate for a moment, before gently knocking. There's no answer and after a few moments, I knock once more. As I press my ear to the door, I hear shuffling and murmurs on the other side of the door. A moment later, my father appears.

He's standing there in his night clothes, a myriad of emotions crossing his face. His eyes show concern, but the way his brows pull together I know there's a layer of anger there somewhere; he's obviously confused about why I'm standing in front of his door with Edward, a servant. To make matters worse, I failed to dress appropriately. I know I need to speak quickly before he makes any hasty assumptions.

"Isabella? Are you alright?" my father asks, exchanging questioning looks between us.

"Father, I have something important to show you," I whisper.

Reaching down, I lace my fingers through Edward's, presenting a united front. There's no time like the present for my father to know the complete truth. If he's going to be able to help us, I know I'm going to have to tell him everything.

"Actually, we have something important to show you," I say, looking up at Edward. I expect to see nervousness or even fear, but when our eyes meet, he's a pillar of strength. He gently squeezes and rubs his thumb across the back of my hand, assuring me with his touch that everything is going to be okay, just like he promised.

"Please, Mr. Swan, a moment of your time," he asks, holding up the documents.

After we lay everything out for my father, showing him the papers that Carlisle had drawn up just two days ago, he has no choice but to believe what Edward tells him about the conversation he overheard the day of my arrival. His brows are now locked down tight in an angry scowl, his mustache twitching with the fury I see burning in his eyes.

Charles Swan is generally a gentle man. Although he may look intimidating, he's relatively harmless, unless he's provoked to anger. I've learned well over my twenty years to stay out of his way when he looks like this. His wrath is something I've only had to witness a few times in my life, and it's something I avoided at all cost.

"Daddy?" I ask, using the one name I know that will calm him down and soften his hardened features.

Edward once again reassures me with a soft squeeze. My heart is beating so fast, I can hear it whooshing in my ears.

I glance over at my mother, who's sitting on the edge of the bed covered in a crimson robe. Her hand is covering her mouth in a look of dismay. I can't see her face very well in the dimly-lit room, but I wish she would say something. I need to know what she's thinking—if she's mad at me . . . disappointed in me.

Tears threaten to spill over, as I work hard to control my breathing. I know that sobbing uncontrollably, which is what I'd like to do right now, would only make matters worse.

"Are you angry with me, Daddy?" I ask, my voice faltering. "Please say something . . . anything."

He ignores my question and turns to Edward instead. "Edward, what are your intentions with my daughter?"

Without hesitation, Edward replies, "If I have your permission, Sir, I'd like to ask for Isabella's hand in marriage."

The tears that I was trying to hold back spilled onto my cheeks. The surety in Edward's tone and words means everything to me. He really wants me! He really loves me . . . and wants to marry me. Even though he had alluded to that fact in our conversation, hearing him ask for my father's blessing makes it feel so real and, once again, hope fills my heart.

I look at my father, who has yet to give his response, and I see him watching me.

"Is this what you want, Isabella? Does he make you happy?"

"Yes," I gush, my voice thick with the tears that are falling. "I love him." Glancing at Edward, I see everything—every answer to every question, my past, my present, my future. "I didn't know I could be this happy until I met Edward."

"Edward," my father commands, "I want you and Isabella to pack your necessary belongings and leave as soon as possible. A carriage will be waiting at the front gate in one hour."

"What about Mr. Cullen?" Edward asks.

"Leave him to me," my father replies, with finality. "I will feel better if the two of you are as far from here as you can be come morning."

"Thank you," I say, wrapping my arms around him. My mother comes over, smoothing my hair back the way she used to when I was little, assuring me that everything will work out. With a kiss goodbye, I turn to meet Edward in the hallway where he's waiting on me.

"Edward," my father says, reaching out and grasping his shoulder, "take care of my daughter."

"You don't have to worry, Sir. I love her more than my own life."

My father nods in understanding and pats Edward on the shoulder.

After Alice helps me quickly dress and pack my trunk, Jasper shows up to carry it downstairs. It's the middle of the night, so we have to use the utmost caution. I want to say goodbye to my sisters, but my father said he would explain everything to them once he had spoken to Carlisle. My stomach, which was upset with dread, is now fluttering with anticipation and a bit of nervousness. I'm not sure what I would say if Carlisle awoke and interrupted our escape.

"Don't worry, Miss Isabella. I promise that everything's going to be fine. I have an uncanny sixth sense about these sorts of things. You'll see!" Alice winks and hugs me close.

"I'm going to miss you so much," I whisper, wishing with everything I have that I could take Alice with me.

"We'll see each other again," she assures me.

Edward is there waiting on me, just like he said he would be. He has a modest size suitcase with him in one hand and takes mine in the other, thanking Jasper for carrying it downstairs. The two of them exchange words and something else that I can't see. It's pitch black out, except for the lone candle that Alice brought so that we'd have light to see by while we walk to the gate.

Once in the carriage, I begin to relax. Knowing that with each gallop of the hooves, we are that much closer to the beginning of the rest of our lives.

A/Ns:

Side note: We know some of you expected us to draw this out a little longer or thought it might not be resolved easily, but keep in mind that this was originally a O/S for the Age of Edward Contest, where our word count was restricted.

We're one chapter away from the end of what was submitted for the contest. After that, we'll be expanding this a little further into the future and coming back to address the talk between Charles and Carlisle.

Thank you to everyone who is reading and reviewing! And, thank you to our beta, Mauigirl60, for making our words better!

Next chapter will be up tomorrow!